


Since When Were You The One Making Chicken Soup?

by Ononymous



Series: Undertale Anniversary Requests 2019 [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 11:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: Frisk faces their greatest challenge yet: The sniffles. But they aren't alone. It's a rather begrudging lack of isolation, however.





	Since When Were You The One Making Chicken Soup?

The deep humming sound abruptly concluded, a pleasant _ding_ punctuating its end, announcing the microwave was finished. A set of oven gloves opened the door and, with the caution often associated with sweeping for mines, carefully coaxed the piping hot bowl of soup onto a carry tray. The hazardous transport complete, Chara then rummaged for a spoon in the cuttlery drawer, and chanced adding a piece of bread to go along with it the meal, even though their patient's throat may not be up to something so crusty. Carrying the lunch into the hall - past the wall plastered with pictures of humans and goats and the occasional fish, lizard and/or skeleton, they went up the stairs and gently pushed open the first door on the right with their foot.

"Frisk? I've brought you some soup."

"Thanks," Frisk meant to say, but their throat was such a poor state it sounded more like a croak that any Froggit would be proud of. The attempted speech rewarded them with a few sharp coughs, dislodging the towel resting on their forehead. They were about to replace it when Chara took it off them, depositing Frisk's lunch on their lap.

"You still feel feverish?" Frisk nodded. "Very well, I shall re-dampen this."

"Croak."

"You are welcome."

Chara did not, in fact, re-dampen that towel, for it would have been the third time. It was more hygienic to leave this one in the washing basket and get a fresh one from the linen closet, and that's what Chara did. They returned to Frisk supping their soup, but while their expression clearly signaled their approval of the flavour, they winced whenever it came time to swallow. The bread remained untouched, clearly beyond Frisk's throat's ability to endure. Chara carefully put the new towel on their forehead, then sat down to watch them struggle.

"Hmph." Chara made no effort to hide their amusement. "Soulless flowers, misguided mothers, aggressive fish, naive skeletons, cynically hyper-aware skeletons, fashionable robots, duty-bound kings, gods of hyperdeath, finally putting an ancient war to rest, none of those are a concern for you. You even went beyond and achieved the impossible." They glanced at a picture of two humans and three monsters by the bed. "But you play in the rain one time and then you catch a cold. It looks like I now know your weakness."

Frisk simply smiled at the tease, knowing Chara had the floor all to themselves with how hard it was to speak.

"Of all times," Chara continued, "for you to fall sick, it's when I'm the only one nearby to help you. You would almost think the humans knew to wait until you were isolated before scheduling that conference. I mean even Asriel went, it just feels too perfect."

Frisk was frowning now. Chara knew that look. It spoke volumes that they'd already spoken many times before.

"Oh I forgot," they blatantly lied, "you want to think the best of them. Well that's why I'm here, to keep you tethered to reality."

This comment was met with a shrug, that debate having long since settled into détente. They were both too determined to change each other's mind, and the curious synthesis of their opposed ideals seemed to make the better outcome more likely. It was beyond Chara's understanding how that worked. Instead they looked out the window at the soft rain which had gotten them into this whole mess in the first place. It showed no sign of letting up. The pitter-patter of it was soothing to both humans, while the only sound from within the room was the regular slurps as Frisk braved past the throbbing of their throat, enjoying the soup even if is temperature wasn't as perfect as Toriel couldn't have managed.

"At least Toriel is still your teacher this year," Chara mused, "that means she is still in charge of your homework, and I don't have to go running around picking it up."

"Croak."

"Pardon?" They looked at Frisk's mouth, and it was clear they were mouthing 'Mom'. Chara sighed. "We've been over this. Maybe back then, but I can't think of them like that anymore. Too much happened. They're my... friends. That's the best you're going to get."

Frisk frowned again, but this being another familiar stalemate they left it at that as they returned to their soup. _Always trying for perfection_, Chara thought. _Never accepting their limits._ Chara respected that, having broken a few of their own limits, but it sure could be irritating at times seeing others pushing that boulder up the hill.

After lunch, Frisk managed to nod off to sleep for a while, giving Chara a chance to fulfil a few chores the Dreemurrs had left both of them when they left. Obviously Toriel had said not to worry about it when the call about Frisk's illness came through, but Chara knew enough about themselves that obsessing about a single thing was never a good idea, and washing some clothes and towels would help keep their brain from side stepping into a downward spiral, and Frisk wasn't the sort to need someone hovering over them, no matter how often Toriel's instincts would turn to that. Hanging the washing in the drier closet, where Toriel had left a magical fire for just such an occasion, Chara returned to Frisk's room to find them awake again, reading a book. Their towel lay beside them on the bed, but they no longer looked so flushed. The fever must have broken.

"Do you want me to read that to you?" Frisk nodded eagerly. "Okay, let me... oh, this is one of Alphys'." A weary sigh. "Alright then..."

These comics weren't like the ones popular when Chara had gone to Mount Ebott. For one thing you had to read them backwards owing to some hodgepodge compromise about translation. And while the powers could be as flashy as the ones of Chara's original youth there was a larger introspective aspect, lots of reaching down within to unlock their full potential. That was actually something Chara liked about them. But there were also some cultural assumptions that Chara felt a little weird about. Frisk had also made comment about them at times, but as Undyne pointed out, a buff guy punching someone was a buff guy punching someone, and that crossed all borders. Honestly Chara preferred actual books. That let them perceive the scene as they saw fit. The correct way to do it. Still, they persevered.

"...so he's now saying 'My hand is unbeatable, it has-', but then his opponent says 'Wait. I still have the right to raise.' Everyone looks freaked out about this, and... Frisk?"

Over the course of this rather unique confrontation, Frisk had gradually crumpled up in bed, clutching the blanket tighter and tighter, and was now trembling and taking sharp shallow breaths. Chara laid the back of their hand on Frisk's head, and felt it clammy and devoid of even healthy warmth.

"You're freezing. Dammit, Toriel could have fixed this in a jiffy. Let me go get a hot water bottle-"

Chara's hand was wrapped in cold. Frisk had grabbed it to stop them from leaving. Chara looked into those unfocused grey eyes, at the pleading glint not to leave just yet, and something bubbled up without warning.

"**No!**" They threw off Frisk's grasp and stepped back. "Don't you dare be weak!"

Frisk could only look shocked at the sudden rebuke. They even stopped trembling.

"Cha... Ra..."

That did nothing to assuage Chara. They knew they had erred, knew they would regret it, but the contempt and anger could not be contained, so they made no effort to hide it.

"You go and convince a whole society to end a war, and then you convince their enemies not to punish them all over again. And _then_ you go and find souls for two kids who lost theirs and should have been eternally lost to their darkness, and persuade them to try being better people. And they actually became better people! And you got Asgore and Toriel talking again! All that amazing impossible stuff... What right do you have to be weak now?! You can't be weaker than me! You can't let up! If you're weak... what if I... or he... I need you to be stronger than me, Frisk. Or I might..."

Chara looked at the ceiling, a few stars glowing over one of the empty beds, and exhaled. The clarity with which they had just spilled their feelings was retreating as fast as it had come into being. All that was left was their anger, which Frisk had helped redirect rather than remove, and yet the dams and canals could fracture without warning and lash out. Chara... didn't deserve this chance...

"Then... help... me... be... strong..."

Chara looked back down at Frisk . Trembling again, but sitting upright, a clammy hand reached out. The clarity was revived, focusing on that hand. Chara didn't know what to do in the future, only right now.

"Alright, Frisk."

They approached the bed and took the hand with the same care they'd given the soup. Then they lay down next to Frisk on top of the blankets, and let Frisk grapple them tightly, their own body temperature being much more soothing than the harsh uncompromising warmth the water bottle would have offered. Chara could feel their breathing grow deeper, more relaxed.

"...feeling better?"

"...croak."

"Glad to hear it."

They lay in that configuration a long time, not feeling the need to let go or do anything else. Chara felt Frisk's grip tighten, grow stronger, which more than anything else meant this was the right move. So caught up were they in the moment, neither noticed when the other had drifted off to sleep, rocked by the rain which showed neither remorse nor sign of letting up.

**Author's Note:**

> Original suggestion: Can you make a fic of Chara taking care of a sick Frisk, please?
> 
> Pastebin Version: https://pastebin.com/ZT8LKDpC
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


End file.
